


Fake It 'Till You Make It

by deanshipsdestiel



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Alternate Universe - The Proposal Fusion, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Humor, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I feel like there should be more tags, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romantic Comedy, Superfamily, The Proposal AU, a tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 08:46:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13454670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanshipsdestiel/pseuds/deanshipsdestiel
Summary: When Wade Wilson is faced with an expired visa and three people who can't wait to kick him out of the country, he forces his young assistant, Peter, to marry him to avoid deportation.If only it were that simple.





	Fake It 'Till You Make It

**Author's Note:**

> y'all have no idea how long it took me to write this jfc
> 
> okay, this is just an AU, like, all copyright goes to the writers of the movie "the proposal" obviously
> 
> there should be more spideypool fics in my opinion

The city is beautiful.

Of course, some people don’t see it that way, instead choosing to look at the fact that it’s crowded and dirty and occasionally things go boom. But the city is a stunning working of art, yellow lights that illuminate the darkening night sky, purples and pinks on the horizon when the sun goes down. The atmosphere is energetic and wild; you never know what’s going to happen and yet you can predict it at the same time.

Wade Wilson loves the city. There are actual seasons here; instead of the frozen wasteland that is Canada, where he conveniently grew up. Of course, he is the editor in chief at Shield Publishing House, so he loves a lot of things.

Well, not true. Wade doesn’t like broccoli, incompetent workers, or people who don’t put out. But, other than that, he loves his life. 

Mostly.

He gets up at five every morning to work out and watch the sunrise while going over some “important” papers (other people deem them important, he doesn’t). 

His body is muscular and god-like, but there’s a patch of scars on his left arm from- well, it’s in the past now. The people he’s close to, like Peter, have learned to accept it, but random strangers on the street and random executives? Not so much. 

He still has hair, though, so that’s a plus.

The scarred skin thing is quite a story, actually, but maybe for another time. Like if there’s a sudden love interest in his apparent romantic comedy lifestyle. Just kidding, all Wade does is sleep with random strangers and flirt with anything that moves, so it’s unlikely that something as good as a relationship would ever happen to him.

Mmm, speaking of Peter, that boy has such a full ass. 

Then again, Peter was kind of a prude and blushed whenever Wade joked about his ass, so maybe he shouldn’t try anything. What a shame to let it all go to waste. 

At around nine, Wade finishes his coffee and his Egg McMuffin and heads over to the building. Little does he know what Peter had gone through that morning.

-

The city sucks ass. First of all, it’s just bright enough to trick someone into thinking that it’s still early morning. Second, power outages happen often. Like the one that caused Peter Parker to oversleep, thanks to his alarm clock not being able to go off.

Shit, he thinks immediately. Wade is going to kill me.

He sprints throughout his apartment, pulling on a random suit and running out of the building, hoping (more like praying) that there won’t be a line at his regular coffee shop.

Peter, unfortunately, has no such luck, and as soon as he skids into the cafe, he almost runs into a stranger that’s at the back of a very long line.

Shit, he thinks again. I'm dead.

“Peter!” The barista (M.J.?) calls, a smile lighting up her face. In her hand are the two coffee cups that Peter needs, one for him, the other for Mr. Wilson. 

He barrels forward, shooting the disgruntled customer's apologetic looks, and grabs the coffee from M.J. “Thank you,” He gushes. “You  
truly saved my life.”

M.J. brightens. “Of course!”

The door closes before Peter realizes that she was about to say something else. Oh, well. It’s not like that would be his last visit. He would see M.J. again.

Sunlight hits Peter’s eyes, then disappears as he scrambles inside Shield Publishing House. Coffees still in hand, he pushes himself inside an elevator, running into the door on the way through the lift. Someone asks if he’s okay, and he briefly nods before resuming his usual morning habit of freaking the fuck out.

-

Wade is navigating himself through the crowd quickly when his phone rings. He glances at the screen briefly before hitting ‘answer,’ a smile on his face.

“Logan! My favorite head writer! How’s life, my love? You feelin’ lonely? I’m sure that I could-”

“Please stop talking,” The voice on the other end says, annoyance creeping in. “I was thinking about what you said, Wade.”

“Mhm, I like the sound of this. Let me guess, you know I’m right? Of course, you do. People want to read your shit, Logan. Someone to tell them what’s truly going on.”

“I know.”

“Good. Wanna meet up later? Talk? Do a little more than talking?”  
-

Peter rushes out of the elevator and into the office space. Wanda, the receptionist, calls out to him, “Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?”

“One of those mornings,” He calls back, grinning at her. “How’s life, Maximoff?”

She shrugs, her lips twitching at the corners. “Fine. Better go before Wilson eats you alive.”

“You’re right,” Peter shudders. “Bye, Wanda!”

As soon as he turns away, however, he slams into the mail cart, spilling one of the coffee cups all over his freshly clean shirt and suit jacket.

"I’m sorry!” He squeaks. The mailman gives him an unimpressed look before wheeling away, leaving Peter to deal with his embarrassment.

-

“People love your work, Logan. But you gotta start doing’ publicity. You’re top-status, brother, which means-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wade can’t see Logan through the phone, but he’s sure that the other man is waving his hands and rolling his eyes. “I know.”

-

“Harry, I’m going to need the shirt off your back. Literally.” Peter says, rushing over to his friend.

Harry fixes him an incredulous look. “Are you being serious, Parker?”

“Look,” Peter winces, and looks around to make sure Mr. Wilson hasn’t arrived yet. “I have tickets to the Yankees game, front row seats. I’ll trade them for your shirt. I'm one-hundred percent serious, Harry.”

There’s a brief moment of silence before Harry starts rummaging around to take off his shirt.

-

Wade marveled at how all his employees seemed to be working, not on their phones or reading a book. It seemed that every time he passed through the office, everyone was busying themselves with different forms of projects and chores.

Good, he thinks to himself. A busy office is a productive office.  
Someone has to be productive, as Wade himself is a poster boy for pushing things to the last minute.

He walks into his office and lets his hot-as-fuck assistant Peter greet him. Peter's holding out a cup of coffee from Starbucks, and Wade almost moans. Oh, how he's missed that sweet, sweet sugary goodness.

“Good morning, Mr. Wilson,” Peter says politely. “You have a conference call in thirty minutes, about-”

“About the marketing shit and whatever else? Yeah, Petey Pie, I’m aware.” He winks at his assistant, who promptly blushes again, just as he sits in his seat.

“Um, you also have a staff meeting at nine.”

“Yeah, whatever. Did you call, um, that hot chick, the one with the big eyes and small teeth?”

It takes Peter a second to respond, his mind spinning as to what the fuck his boss could have meant before it hits him. “Oh, you mean Vanessa? Yeah, I did. I told her that if she didn’t turn her manuscript in on time, you wouldn’t get her release date. Also, your immigration lawyer called, he said-”

“Alright, alright. Let’s see, baby boy, what should I do? Oh, I know. Cancel the call, push the meeting until tomorrow and keep the lawyer circulating. Oh, and, my dearest, get PR and have them start drafting a press release or whatever the fuck it’s called. Logan is doing Oprah.”

“Wow,” Peter says, mildly impressed. “Nicely done, Mr. Wilson.”

Wade fixes him with a bored stare. “What have I said, Pete, about what you call me?”

“Um, you haven’t said anything.”

“Oh,” Wade frowns before looking back at Peter. “Forget it, then. But when you forget, use Wade, okay?”

Peter is just about to leave the room when he hears Wade call after him. “Baby boy, who’s M.J? And why does she want me to call her?”

shitfuckshitfuckshitfuck-

“Well,” Peter says, a mini-heart attack in the process of him trying to figure out how he's gonna lie. Wade helpfully turns the cup in his direction so that he’s able to see the words, and his heart sinks a little more. “That was originally my cup.”

“Okay. Coolio, but why am I drinking your coffee?”

After a few moments, Peter begrudgingly admits, “Because your coffee spilled. I’m sorry about that, M- Wade, I am-”

Wade makes a non-committal sound and takes a sip of the coffee, ignoring Peter standing frozen near the door. “So, you drink sweetened mocha lattes?”

Any chance of Peter’s heart rebuilding dies a little, and it takes him a moment to weakly reply. “I do. It’s good, and it reminds me of my house.”

“Isn’t that just a strange stroke of fate, baby boy, that we drink the same coffee?”

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s not because of incidents like this, not at all-” The phone rings, and Peter hurries over to answer it. “Hello, Wade Wilson’s office? Hey, Bruce.”

A hand flies in the air, signaling that they’re leaving right then and there, and Peter tells Bruce that they’re headed over there right now. 

“Why are we headed to Bruce’s office?” He asks Wade, who just grins in response. Peter sighs and heads out.

-

It’s not that Wade is a bad boss. Quite the opposite. It’s just that everyone is afraid of him because one time he yelled at an intern so severely that they quit and had to go to an asylum. Oh, and that time he joked (Peter, personally, thinks that Wade meant it, but whatever) about some girl’s ass and she flipped shit, and then Wade started yelling even louder. She also quit.

And so, that’s why as soon as Peter’s out of Wade’s office, he sprints over to a computer and types out a message that lets everyone know Wade’s on the move.

The text is spread around very quickly, and everyone sits at their desk and busies themselves with random mundane tasks. Wade walks out, coffee in hand, and Peter hurries over to join him. “Did you, uh, read that manuscript I gave to you?”

“I read a couple of pages. Come on, Petey Pie, it wasn’t the best. I wasn’t that impressed, to be honest. Hey! That rhymed!”

“Mr. Wilson, I’ve read thousands of manuscripts, and this was the only one that has potential. It has the making to be an incredible novel.”

“I’ll think about it. Also, the fact that you order the same coffee as me just in case one might spill is kind of cute. If you weren’t eighteen and dressed like a third-grader, you would be date material.”

Peter sputters for a moment before regaining his composure. “I’m twenty-four! And I dress fine, thank you very much.”

“Sure, baby boy, whatever you say. Remember, don’t say anything in here.” Wade tells him at the entrance to Bruce’s office. Peter nods, and they walk in.

"Ah!” Bruce says when they enter, smile on his face. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Wilson?”

“Poppin’ in, saying hey. Beautiful, uh, cabinet. Is it new?”

“It is from English Regency, built in the 1800’s maybe even earlier, but yes, it is new to my office.” He gives another grin, and Peter inwardly cringes, because if there’s one thing Wade hates, it’s know-it-alls.

“Witty,” Wade mutters, and Peter winces. “Bruce, I’m letting you go.”

Bruce looks up from his computer, shock written on his features. “What?”

“I’ve asked you, like, so many fucking times to get Logan to do Oprah. For some reason, it’s just never happened. The fuck? So, I’ve come to my only conclusion; you’re done. You’re fired.”

Peter moves to shut the door.

“I’ve told you,” Bruce grits his teeth. “That it’s impossible. Logan hasn’t done anything, interview or more, in twenty years.”

“Huh, that’s strange, because was just on the phone with him, Brucie-bear, and he’s in through the curtain. Whatever the fuck that means. So, y’know, that’s it.”

“But-”

“I know,” Wade gives a fake wince and glides forward. “Logan can be a bit scary to deal with at times. He’s got claws, that one. I call him Wolverine just to fuck with him. But, that’s it. I’ll give you, let’s say, two months to find another job and then you can tell everyone that you’ve resigned, okay? Cool. Petey, let’s blow this joint.”

As soon as they walk out, Wade asks, “What’s his twenty?”

Peter glances back. “He’s moving and looks pissed as hell. He’s flashing crazy eyes. Oh, God-”

Bruce storms out. “You complete piece of shit! You can’t fucking fire me!”

Wade gives Peter an annoyed look and leans against a cubicle. 

“You don’t think I know what you’re doing, firing me over this Oprah thing so you can look good on the board because of how threatening I am to you!”

Wade snorts at that, while Peter just sinks further into his shell. He can’t help it; he hates confrontation.

“Bruce, stop it,” Wade mutters.

“And, you’re a monster! Just because you don't have a life outside this stinking office, you think that you can treat us all like shit! You yell and make people quit and kill themselves! You won't have anything or anyone on your sad and pathetic deathbed!”

This is the weird thing: Bruce has always been a lovely guy. He would bring in muffins on Fridays for everyone in the office. He loses his temper sometimes, sure, but nothing as severe as this little outburst.

Wade sighs and takes a step forward. Everyone in the immediate vicinity has gone silent with shock, watching the ordeal play out like a bad movie in front of them. “Listen, Banner. I didn’t fire you because I feel ‘threatened,’ or whatever the fuck you said. I fired you because you’re lazy and you hate it here! You could be building shit like that old Stark guy from back in the 40’s.”

Peter gulps.

“I know that you like science and all that shit, okay? This job has meant nothing to you, but it means everything to me. Now, I swear to God, if you say another word, I will have security throw you out of this building. Good? Good. Now, if you don’t mind, Mister Smashy, I have work to do. Pete, let’s go.”

Getting up quickly from his chair, Peter follows his boss as they walk away. All eyes are on them, and Wade smirks like he knows they are, and just gave them a once-in-a-lifetime show.

“Have security take his phone and put in in my office. Also, I need you around this weekend to review files and manuscripts and shit.”

“Um, this-this weekend?”

“Problem, baby boy?” Wade fixes him with a look that makes all of Peter’s internal organs shrivel up and wither away.

“No, it’s just that it’s my dad’s birthday and I wanted-”

Wade rolls his eyes and walks away, while Peter hurries after him, still babbling. “It’s fine; I’ll cancel. You’re saving me from a weekend of misery, anyway. Alright, then, I’ll get back to you about it-”

“Better show up!” Wade yells, and Peter sighs.

-

“I know, I know. I can’t-tell Papa that I’m sorry, okay? What-” Peter takes a deep breath. “Dad, what do you want me to tell you? He’s making me work the weekend, and- no! I’ve worked so hard for this promotion, Dad, and I can’t just throw it all away-”

He notices Wade coming over, and quickly says into the phone, “But we take all of our submission around here quite seriously, and we’ll have to get back to you.”

Wade stares at him for a moment. “Was that your family?”

Peter lowers his gaze and nods.

“They tell you to quit?

“Every single day.” Wade opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by the phone ringing. Peter quickly picks it up, grateful for the distraction.

“Wade Wilson’s office. I- yeah, okay. Okay.”

He looks up at Wade. “Fury and Hill want to see you upstairs immediately. I have no idea what for.”

Wade groans. “Fuck, fine. Come get me in ten minutes; we have a shit ton of work to do, Petey Pie.”

The phone rings again, just as Wade leaves. Peter watches him go and picks it up.

-

Wade strolls to the conference room, ignoring the secretary’s greeting. He didn’t get to the top by being nice. In fact, Wade didn’t get anywhere by being nice. He is always on top, however, whether it be the boardroom or the bedroom.

“Nick, Maria,” He says once he’s in the room. “You look ravishing today. What body wash do you use?”

“Wade,” Maria says, a sparkle in her eye. “Congratulations on Oprah.”

“Thanks! Also, Congratulations is a great song; I listen to it every day. So, what’s cookin’, good lookin’? This isn’t about my second raise, right? I mean, not that I would be upset about that, but-”

“Wade, remember when we agreed that you wouldn’t go to the Mexico City conference because you weren’t allowed out of the country while the government was processing your visa application?”

“You betcha!”

"And you went to Mexico City,” Maria says, more a statement than a question.

“Well, duh. We were gonna lose Lang to Xavier, so I didn’t really have a choice.”

“Yes, you asshole, you did. The United States government doesn’t care who publishes Lang. We just spoke to your fucking immigration attorney, and they denied your visa. You’re being deported, Wade.” Nick says, annoyed.

“Um? What the fuck? Deported?”

“There was also some paperwork you didn’t fill out on time,” Maria adds, face apologetic.

“This is bullshit. It’s not like I’m even an immigrant. I’m from fucking Canada! There has got to be something we can do about this, right, Maria?”

“We can re-apply, but, you’re gonna have to leave the country for at least a year,” Nick says.

“A year? A fucking year? Okay, fine. Fine! I can manage everything from Vancouver with video conferencing, and all that tech shit.”

“Wade, you can’t work for an American country while deported. We’re forced to turn operations over to Bruce Banner.”

"Um, Bruce Banner? The same dude I just fired?” Wade wants just to scream, but unfortunately, he can’t. At least, not trapped in this fucking office.

“We need an editor in chief, and he’s the only person in the building who has enough experience,” Nick says. He sounds unconcerned, and Wade resists the urge to punch him in the mouth.

“Wade, we don’t want to see you go. If there were any way at all that we could make this work, we would be doing it.” At least Maria sounds sad, Wade thinks. She’s always been a good friend.

“Come on-”

The door opens to reveal a disheveled Peter. “Wade-”

“We’re in a meeting.” Nick deadpans.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that Jessica from Ms. Jones’s office is on the line, she’s on hold, she needs to speak with you right away, I told her you were otherwise engaged-”

"Yes, I know, I know,” Wade says impatiently. Peter keeps talking, and then it suddenly the perfect idea pops into Wade’s mind.

He can marry Peter.

“Uh,” Wade says, the motions for Peter to stand next to him. When Peter complies, Wade turns back to Nick and Maria. “I understand the predicament that we are in, and I think that there is something that we should tell you.”

Wade inhales before smiling. “We are, uh, we’re getting married. It’s happening, right, baby boy?”

“We’re, um, married. We’re getting married. Married.” Peter sounds shocked, and Wade hopes he doesn't fuck this up.

There’s a brief moment of silence (honestly, gay marriage is fucking legal now, that shouldn’t be an issue. There was the whole-)

“Wait,” Nick says, pointing at the two of them. Peter is standing awkwardly close to Wade, and he prays to go that his assistant doesn’t fuck this up. “Isn’t he your secretary?”

“Um, assistant,” Peter says weakly.

“Executive assistant,” Wade chuckles. “Assistant, secretary, titles. Wouldn’t be the first time one of us fell for our secretary, right, Nick?” 

Nick glares at him, eyepatch quivering.

“With Carol, remember? So, yeah. The truth is, Petey and I were just two people who never meant to fall in love but did. Yeah, all those late nights at the office, weekend book fairs, all of it. Something happened.”

“Something,” Peter echoes. 

“Can’t fight a love like ours, right, baby boy?” Wade bends down to give Peter a ghost of a kiss on his cheek, and Peter, the poor innocent soul, stand completely still.

“So, my besties, are we good with this shit? Are you happy with this, Maria? I hope so because we’re happy. Extremely happy.”

“Wade,” Maria smiles. “It’s terrific. Just make it legal, okay?” She gestures to the ring on her finger. 

“Oh, yeah. On it, boss. I’m thinking solid gold, maybe even silver? Something costly that isn’t the worth the money, for sure. We gotta go to the immigration office to work this shit out, huh?”

Maria gives him an unimpressed look.

“Sounds cool. Thanks, Maria! I would say thank you, Nick, but you look like you’re gonna jump out the window, so buh-bye!” 

As soon as they walk out the office, Wade exhales. Peter stares at him, and that’s when everything that he’d just done hits him like a bag of cement in the nuts.

He has to marry Peter.

-

They take the walk of shame through the office and all around are whispers of the ‘marriage.’ Harry laughs at him, and Peter feels like crawling into his bed and never getting up.

When they get into the office, Peter shuts the door. He makes sure to look around, just in case, but when the coast is clear, he turns on Wade.

“What the fuck, Wade? Why are we getting married? What is happening?”

“Relax, Petey Pie. This little arrangement helps you too.”

“Care to explain?”

“They were gonna make Bruce the fucking chief, Pete.”

Peter looks frazzled. “So, what? I have to marry you?”

“What’s the problem? Were you saving yourself for someone special? Please. Come on, who cares.”

“I care! Plus, it’s illegal!”

Wade stares at him for a minute. “Um, no it’s not. They legalized it, like, three years ago.”

“It’s illegal to fake a marriage to get someone to stay in the country, or whatever! Jesus fucking Christ, I think I need to lie down.”

“Take all the time you need. We have to start preparing this wedding thing, though.”

“Wade,” Peter says, face blank. “I’m not marrying you.”

“Aw, Pete, that’s adorable. But yes, you are, because if you don’t, your dreams of getting promoted or whatever runs through that crazy little mind of yours are dead.”

When Peter didn’t say anything, Wade frowns and leans forward to stare down his assistant. “Look, if Bruce is made chief, he’ll fire you on the spot. Then, everything that ‘you’ve been working for’ will come to nothing. I’m doing this with your interests at heart too, y’know. Don’t worry, baby boy, after everything gets finalized, we can get a quickie divorce, and you’ll be done with me. But, until then, sweetums, our asses are a joint dealio.”

The only thing running through Peter’s mind is a combination of the words ‘what’, ‘the,’ and ‘fuck.’ 

Marriage? He has to marry his bipolar boss to ‘save’ his job? Why is this Peter’s life? What has he ever do to the world, to the universe, to deserve this? What in the actual fuck?

-

In New York, for some reason, it’s pretty easy to get a cab. That’s why it takes Peter and Wade literally no time at all to get to the immigration office. The whole ride there, Peter digs his fingernails into his palm and lets his mind work on overdrive. He only dimly realizes when they arrive, and by then, there are tiny scars littered on his skin, his brain barely registering the pain.

When they walk in, Wade takes one look at the giant line and promptly walk to the front. He cuts a lovely Korean woman in line and hands the man at the front desk a folder. “I’m gonna need you to file this fiancèe form for me, thanks.”

Wade smiles, and Peter cringes.

The man leads them to a room, where Peter sits on one of the comfortable brown chairs. Wade decided to remain standing, for some godforsaken reason, but Peter doesn’t bother him. He’s too busy freaking the fuck out.

There’s a slight noise, and Peter looks over to notice Wade moving out of the way to let another man into the room.

Okay, well, not a man, because this guy looks like a fucking god. He has bulging muscles, well, everywhere, long blonde hair, and blue eyes. Holy shit, who is he?

“I am Mr. Odinson.” Norse God says, and Peter dies a little inside.

“Ah! Of course! Great. Thanks for the opportunity, my lord,” Wade jokes, and Peter shoots him a look of contempt. 

“Of course. You must be Wade, and you must be Peter. It is a pleasure.” Mr. Odinson says, sitting behind his desk. “I have one question I must ask: Are you committing fraud so that Mr. Wilson may keep his position as chief at Shield Publishing?”

Silence. Then-

“Um, that’s, uh, where did you hear that?” Wade laughs, and Peter inwardly cringes. Why is he even doing this?

“A man called our phones and spilled the beans, and one would say.”

“Let me guess,” Wade says, sitting next to Peter. “This man was named Bruce Banner. Wow, we just can’t catch a break, baby boy. The truth is, Bruce, is a former employee of mine who’s probably just pissy about this whole situation.”

“Ah,” Mr. Odinson says, and scribbles something down on a piece of paper. “I see. Well then, this process will take a while, I’m afraid. We will put you two in separate rooms to see if your stories match up. If not, you, Mr. Wilson, will be deported indefinitely. And you, Mr. Parker, will face up to five years in federal prison.”

Holy fucking shit, they’re so fucked.

-

Peter almost shit his pants but kept it together. He lied fluently, and even though Mr. Odinson stared him down, he held it together. Thank Christ, too, because he may or may not have blackmailed Wade into giving him a promotion. 

The strangest part was how Wade acted. It was if pretending to be a couple came naturally to him, though Peter was sure that the pretending part was the one thing Wade could do.

Of course, throughout that whole process, the only thing that came from it was that yes, Peter got to go home for his father’s birthday! What a strange turn of events, right? Wrong. Wade was coming with him. 

Motherfucker.

Not to mention, Peter’s parent's house was in the rolling hills of Malibu, with a mansion the size of a small town, and they didn’t even know about Wade. Well, not exactly. They knew that he was Peter’s dick boss, a prick who treats his employees like shit. But other than that, nothing.

They walk out onto the street, Peter stumbling around in a daze. Wade’s on his phone, of course, playing what looks like Angry Birds, which is such a lame game.

“Alright, so, we’ll fly up there, with my miles, of course, pretend to be a lovey-dovey and shit, do some good ass convincing-”

“Wade,” Peter hisses, pulling his boss aside. “Did you hear what Mr. Odinson said? We’re screwed. I’m facing five years in prison and a fine of two-hundred fifty thousand dollars.”

“What? Who cares? Oh, that bit about the promotion was genius, by the way. It can never happen, obviously, but-”

“I want to be promoted to editor.” There. He said it. This job was Peter’s life-long dream, after all, and his dad is already disappointed that his son doesn’t want to build and fix things. If- no, when Peter got this promotion, it will be the happiest day of his life.

And then Wade destroys it all. “Funny, Pete. No.”

Listen, Peter is a nice guy. He doesn’t usually do things like- well, like this.

“Okay. Have fun with deportation, Wade. See you around.” He walks away, and just as he expects, Wade moves to follow him.

“Pete! Peter!” Okay, that’s a first. Wade never calls him Peter, which means that-

“Fine! Fuck. Fine, I’ll make you editor, if you do the New York getaway and immigration thing. Promise.”

“Not in two years,” Peter counters, walking forward. “Right away. And you’ll read my manuscript.”

“It’s a deal, sugar,” Wade grins. “Meet you at the airport tomorrow?”

Peter regards him for a moment, before saying, “Ask me to marry you.”

Wade falters. “Are you- fuckin hell, fine. Will you marry me?”

“No, properly.”

A stranger in a rush bumps into Wade, who growls and gets down on one knee. “Peter Parker, will you do me the honor of making me your husband?”

The weird thing is, a sort of rush goes through Peter, and when he looks down at Wade, it’s like he’s actually looking at him. For the first time, or something. It’s strange and foreign, and Peter doesn’t like it, even though he feels all warm and gooey inside.

“There was a lot of sarcasm in that, but sure. See you tomorrow, Wade.” With that, Peter turns and walks away, not noticing Wade (who’s still on his knees), and his eyes follow him until he’s swallowed up by the crowd. 

-

On the plane, Peter hands Wade a packet of questions. “Here’s everything that the immigration people are going to ask us. The good news is that I know all of this about you, while you have, like, four days to learn all this about me.”

When he looks over, Wade is giving him a strange look. “You know all this about me?”

“Yeah. It’s my job.”

“Bullshit. What am I allergic to?”

“Cats. Next?”

“What’s my favorite food?”

“Chimichangas. That one’s not fair, though. Anyone who spends at least five minutes with you knows of your love for Mexican food.”

Wade laughs, and the gooey feeling Peter felt a day before returns. He shoves it deep down, hoping it’ll never see the light of day.

“Whose place do we spend time at, your’s or mine?”

Wade snorts. “Obviously mine. I’m sure your home is grand, Baby Boy, but I live in an apartment near Central Park West.” The loudspeaker crackles to life, and Wade looks up while Peter seethes in quiet. His apartment is enormous and costs more than Wade makes a year, but whatever. Money didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

“Wait, I thought we were going to Malibu.”

Now it was Peter’s turn to snort. “We are.”

“Then why did the plane say we’re flying to Van Nuys?”

Peter merely stares until Wade huffs and crosses his arms.

-

They land smoothly, and Peter starts to feel hopeful about this whole trip until he sees his older sister waving a sign around that says ‘welcome home, Peter.’

This was a mistake.

“Alright,” Peter chuckles nervously. “Here we go.”

About five minutes later, they leave the plane. Peter takes one step down the stairs and is greeted by enthusiastic yelling. His father is there, a smile so big and bright it could power the whole of New York, and most of Peter’s problems melt away.

Most of them.

The largest one yells at him to move down the stairs so they can hurry this dumb trip up, and even his father’s brightest smile couldn’t fix Peter’s spirit this time.

“Peter!” His father moves to hug him, and Peter immediately relaxes. 

“Hey, Papa! Happy birthday!” Peter’s father flashes his son an easy smile.

“Thanks, son.”

“Oh, right. It’s your birthday.” Peter’s sister says, and they laugh. It’s great, it’s fun, and then Wade arrives.

“Oh, yeah, Papa, Nat, this is Wade. Wade, this is my father, Steve, and this is my ‘sister,’ Natasha.” He uses his fingers to make quotation marks when he said sister, and Nat jostles him good-heartedly.

“Careful, little ‘brother.’” Nat mimics his actions, a smile on her face. 

“This will no doubt be a hellish four days for you.”

Besides Peter, Wade moves to shake Steve’s hand. “You look familiar,” He says, and Steve laughs.

“That’s what everyone says. Come on, let’s get up to the fort.”

Nat rolls her eyes but helps Wade and peter with their luggage. Pretty soon, the four of them are on their way to Peter’s parent's house.

Wade, no doubt, has no idea what to expect.

-

As they drive through town, Wade notices that a lot of shops and stores have the name Stark on them. And when he glances down at Peter’s bag, the tab is embroidered with the name Peter Stark.

“Pete,” He hisses. “You didn’t tell me about the business. And I thought your last name was Parker, not Stark.”

Peter laughs a little.

“He was probably just being modest, son. Parker and Stark are part of his surname, yes.”

“What’s the other part?”

“Rogers,” Steve answers, a sparkle in his eye.

“My full name is Peter Benjamin Parker Stark-Rogers,” Peter says, fighting to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

“Stark, Stark, Stark…” Wade says after a moment. “That name sounds familiar. Why can’t I place it? Reminds me of that time-”

“Nope. We’re not doing this.”

Natasha merely laughs.

-

They arrive at a dock about ten minutes later, Wade complaining the whole time.

“You know I can’t swim, baby boy,” He hisses, and Peter grins.

“Hence the boat, dumbass. Come on; we don’t have all day.”

The boat ride doesn’t take long. It’s mostly insufferable; at least until the mansion comes into sight.

“Here we are,” Steve chirps. “Home sweet home.”

Peter sees Wade’s mouth move to form the word ‘home,’ and smirks. 

Maybe this trip won’t be so bad after all.

-

“You never told me you were rich as fuck, Petey Pie,” Wade hisses as they lug their baggage down the path to the house. 

“It never came up,” Peter responds.

“Hey, Peter!” A faraway voice calls to them, and Peter waves back, confused.

“Papa? What is this?”

“Just a little get together of our close friends and neighbors. All of our neighbors.” Natasha says, a smirk permanently etched on her face.

“A party?” Wade practically shrieks.

“You’ll live.”

“I’m starting not to want to.”

Peter rolls his eyes.

-

Everyone is talking about the scar on his arm.

He can see it, hear it, feel it. It sucks. It really sucks. But at Peter’s side, no one spares him a second glance or thought. It’s like their first impression is about the scar, and there’s nothing else. Wade doesn’t know whether to be relieved or offended.

“Welcome, Wade!” Some random woman says. Peter nods in her direction, then starts talking about how they need to act like a couple when another lady comes up to Peter.

“Peter! How are you?”

Peter turns the charm up to eleven and hugs her. “Ms. Danvers! I’m good, how are you?”

“I’m great! Listen, Peter; I’ve always wanted to ask you; what does a book publisher do, exactly?”

“That’s what I want to know.” A male voice says. Then, suddenly, Tony fucking Stark (Stark! What the fuck?) steps out from the shadow to intercept Peter. Tony has a blank expression. Peter has a cautious one.

“Dad,” Peter says. He sounds apprehensive, and Wade is instantly put off.

“Peter,” Tony’s face breaks out into a grin, and he hugs Peter close. Peter looks relieves as he hugs Tony back.

“Wait, hold up,” Wade says, holding one hand up for dramatic effect. 

“Aren’t you Tony Stark?”

Tony gives a shit-eating grin. “The one and only. You must be Wayne.”

“Wade. Is it true you discovered green energy or whatever the fuck it is?”

Peter grimaces. “Wade-”

“No, Pete, it’s fine. And yes, it’s true. Green energy and my countless other inventions are the reason I live the way I do.” Tony chuckles and Wade dies a little inside.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Wayne.” Tony walks away, and Peter frowns. 

“I’ll be right back.” Wade watches him go, a strange feeling in his stomach.

-

“Dad,” Peter hisses. Tony turns around, apparently not caring.

“Yes, Peter?”

“What was that? Why are you purposefully being rude to him?”

“Why does it matter? Don’t you hate him? I don’t even know why you’re here, Peter. You said you had work, and don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled, but I’m a bit out of the loop, son.”

Okay. This is it; this is where Peter tells him everything. He can do this.

Well, maybe not, but he’s at least going to try.

“We’re getting married, Dad. We’re engaged.”

Tony looks faint before muttering, “I need a drink,” and walking (more like sprinting) away.

-

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement to make,” Peter raises his voice to be heard above all the others. Wade is in a corner, being bombarded by a serving boy. “Wade and I are getting married.”

He watches in amusement as Wade spits the food out onto the waiter, muttering apologies.

“Wade, baby, come here,” Peter is well aware that Wade is probably hyper-aware of his words, but he doesn’t care. It’s fun to watch Wade’s face contort. 

Wade walks over to Peter slowly, and almost as if he’s done it plenty of times before, tugs Peter to his side and smiles as the room applauds.

What did he get himself into?

-

“Great plan, baby boy. Really great. What other great plans do you have shoved up your ass?”

“Plenty. You wanna come see? How about-”

“Peter?” A woman’s voice interrupts their bantering, and Peter turns to see his high-school sweetheart

“Gwen?” He chokes out, internally freaking the fuck out because holy shit she’s gotten so much more beautiful- 

“Oh my god!” He swoops in and hugs her, well aware that Wade was watching.

“Sorry. Wade, this is my ex, Gwen Stacy.”

“Hi, Gwen,” Wade says, a forced smile on his lips. “So nice to meet you,”

She’s gorgeous; a pretty, young blonde thing that Peter stares out with total adoration, and Wade has to shove something ugly down his throat before it escapes and ruins everything. 

“So, did I miss the story?” Gwen asks, still smiling.

“What story?” Peter and Wade ask in unison.

“The proposal story, duh!” Gwen says. Peter gives a small laugh, and Wade doesn’t know if he wants to strangle himself or Gwen.

This is stupid. This whole thing is ridiculous; Wade shouldn't be obsessing over Peter, his fucking assistant, like a fucking teenage girl. Jesus fucking Christ.

“How a man proposes says a lot about his character,” Some old lady says, and Wade inwardly groans because he’s the one who’s gonna have to (fake!) pop the question to Peter.

Now, the entire room is staring at Wade and Peter, and it’s a good thing that Wade’s always been good at improv. Well, he’s just good at making things up on the spot to distinguish the truth. 

“Okay, well, it’s not that exciting,” Wade says, and the whole room laughs. Fuck. “We had just gotten home from a date, and I went into our bedroom to change clothes. We had both worn really fancy suits because the place we went to was a really fancy dinner place. Chandeliers and candles and flowers, the whole nine yards.”

Peter shoots him an amused look, which means that he knows what Wade is doing. Good.

“Anyway, I got changed and joined Peter on the couch. He was watching Keeping Up With The Kardashians, I think. He had loosened his tie, and he looked adorable,” Now, Peter’s glaring, but Wade cheerily continues. “And so I just said to him, right then and there, that we should get married.”

The whole room went awww, and Wade grins at his fake-fiancee, who is currently fuming. 

“No! No, that’s wrong. That’s the first time you proposed, and it wasn’t even a proposal. That little thing was, like, seven months ago. I thought you were gonna tell them the real story.” Peter sputters, and Wade laughs. 

“Okay, fine. Tell the audience the real story, baby boy. I’ll be quiet, just for you,” Wade is pretty sure that now, more than ever, people think they’re a couple. Shit, Wade had been teasing Peter for years, and Peter had been bantering right back, but that wasn’t flirting, right?

Right?

Peter tips an imaginary fedora at him, and a soft laugh escapes Wade before he can stop it. He glances over, and Tony (Holy shit! It’s Tony fucking Stark!) is watching Peter with mild curiosity. 

“Well, picture this,” Peter begins, grinning at Wade. “The work day is over, and I’m waiting for Wade so we can walk home together. Our apartment isn’t that far from the building, by the way. So, I’m waiting for him, for like, ten minutes. I’m about to call him when some guy hands me a card and tells me to open it right now, or I’ll regret it forever. So I open it, and it tells me to go to Wade’s office. I go to the office, and there’s another envelope. It leads me to another place; I think it was a food cart? Yeah, maybe. Basically, Wade led me around on a scavenger hunt, all the places memories of us, until I got back to our apartment.” Peter takes a moment to breathe and to sneak a peek at Wade, who is staring at him with a small smile on his face and something unreadable in his eyes. They stare at each other for a moment before Peter tears his gaze away.

“Um, Wade’s waiting for me at the apartment with a bouquet of roses. Except, one of them’s fake. He tells me to open it, and when I do, there’s a single gold band it there. It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. He gets down on one knee, takes the ring box from my hands,” The room laughs at that, and Wade is staring at Peter like he’s never seen him before. “And asks me to marry him, and after a moment, I said, ‘Always.’ That’s it.”

The entire rooms awwws again, but Peter doesn’t notice. He’s too busy getting lost in Wade’s blue eyes.

“Let’s see a kiss!” Someone says, and Peter looks over to see it’s Flash Thompson. He resists the urge to roll his eyes, and glances back to see Wade, amused.

“Sure,” Wade says, and kisses the back of Peter’s hand. 

Natasha, who’s sitting next to Steve, yells, “A real kiss, Peter! Don’t be a-” She’s cut off by Steve elbowing her in the ribs. 

Wade gives Peter an apologetic look before leaning in and kissing him. It’s quick, but it still makes Peter’s knees go weak.

“Come on, Pete,” Steve says, eyes twinkling.

And so Peter shrugs, but before he can lean in, Wade’s already capturing his mouth with his own. 

Kisses are supposed to feel hot and thick, right? So why doesn’t Peter feel that? All he feels is safe. His kiss with Wade feels like coming home, like relaxation and security and warmth. It feels like cuddling up by a fire while it snows outside. It feels like safety and comfort. 

They part too soon, but it’s enough for the people in the room because there are cheers and whoops. All Peter can think of is why didn’t they do that sooner?

-

“And this one right here will be your room!” Steve announces, Natasha, Peter, and Wade right behind him.

“It’s lovely, Papa, thank you,” Peter says, smiling at his father. Wade nods his agreement before diving back into the heated argument between him and Natasha. Peter can only pick up bits and pieces, but he’s pretty sure they’re finishing an argument over the season seven finale of Supernatural. That fucking show. God, why can’t the writers just make it so that Jensen Ackles and that angel fuck?

Um, Peter very cultured, thank you very much. He knows all about Destiel or whatever the fuck it’s called because all he does is browse the internet and watch- nevermind.

“Of course! Anything you two need, just call. We’ll be just down the hall.”

“Don’t be too loud,” Natasha adds, her trademark smirk permanently etched on her face.

Peter inhales deeply. “I’m not even going to ask what that means, Nat, but thanks. I appreciate it. I’m actually exhausted, so…”

“Oh!” Steve says. “Of course. Good night, son, Wade. Sleep well!”

“Sweet dreams,” Natasha winks, and Peter resists the urge to pull a move on her like he did when he was fifteen. Then again, he did wake up in the hospital with no recollection of what happened, so-

“Alright. You good with sleepin’ on the floor, Peteycakes? Because I’m not.” Wade asks once Steve and Nat have left the room.

“We could just share the bed,” Peter points out, and Wade sighs.

“Ugh. Fine. But you better not be a cuddle sleeper, you hear?”

Peter shrugs. “Whatever, Wade. I’m gonna put on my pajamas and then get into the bed, whether you’re there or not.”

“Sure you don’t want to change in front of me, Baby Boy? I won’t mind!” Wade calls, but Peter’s already in the bathroom.

What did he get himself into? Why does he keep asking himself that?

-

When Peter wakes up the next morning, the bed is empty. Huh. That’s weird. He could have sworn that when he fell asleep last night, Wade had been next to him. What happened?

So, he ventures downstairs to see Steve and Natasha giggling to themselves. Well, Steve is laughing. Natasha has a smile on her face, but it’s not an actual one, more of an I-guess-that-it’s-funny-but-not-really smile. So, Natasha’s resting face. Well, her relaxing face was a bitch face, like RBF but significant, so not quite. Off topic again. Right.

When he joins the two, they’re still laughing. “What’s so funny?” He asks, and Steve points to something out the window.

Wade (that fucking idiot) is waving his arms around wildly at something in the sky and seems to be shouting at random. What the fuck? Why the fuck?

“Go see what his deal is,” Steve says, trying desperately to sober up. “We’ve got a whole day planned out for him. Clint’s here, by the way, so you should probably acknowledge his presence at some time today.”

Peter shoots Natasha a worried look. “Clint’s here? I thought he hated us.”

Natasha snorts. “Our dear brother could never hate us, Pete. He loves us too much.”

“That’s- whatever,” Peter mutters and heads outside to see what the fuck Wade’s doing.

“Hey, Wade?”

Wade turns to him, a desperate look in his eye. “The eagle! That bald fuck! It stole my fucking phone, Petey! What the fuck! Can eagles even eat phones? I hate nature!”

“Calm your non-existent tits; we’ll get a new one later. My brother is coming over today, so behave. I’m sure you two won’t have a problem getting along, he’s kind of a sarcastic asshole. Like you. Now, let’s hug, so they don’t think we’re fighting or whatever.”

“I have no words, Petey,” Wade says, pulling Peter to his chest. “You think I’m an asshole?”

Peter laughs, his face still against Wade’s chest. “I never said that.”

Wade pulls back and gives Peter a mock glare. “Yes, you did! Too late, now, Petey. I’m officially offended.”

“Oh, no,” Peter says, grinning. “What a shame. I guess it’s a good thing I don’t care, huh?”

There’s a beat of silence before Wade says, “They think we’re a couple, right? Like, it’s actually working?” He’s worrying away his bottom lip, and something inside Peter breaks in two.

“Yes. Hug me again, Steve and Nat are still watching, and you look like someone just- nevermind.” Wade narrows his eyes at Peter’s words.

“No, what, Peter? What were you about to say? I look like someone who just lost their phone to a fucking bald eagle!” 

This must look bad. Steve probably thinks they’re in a fight, so he has to act quickly.

Peter starts laughing. It’s fake, at least, Wade can tell it’s fake, but the other man has a smile on his face by the time Peter’s sobered up. “What was that?” Wade asks, and Peter just shakes his head.

“I have no idea,” He replies, heading back into the house. “Breakfast should be soon. See you later, hon.”

Wade rolls his eyes.

-

A little while later, Peter decides to take a short walk by the water. What he finds, though, instead of tranquility, is his dad, playing golf by the lake.

“Hey, Dad,” Peter says cautiously. 

The thing is, Peter knows his dad loves him. It’s obvious; Tony talks about Peter all the time and boasts about his son’s accomplishments. But sometimes Tony can be a bit too much; almost overbearing.

“Peter!” Tony says, smiling. “I created these golf balls that dissolve in water. They’re perfect for the ecosystem and everything. Wanna check it out?”

“Maybe later, Dad,” Peter says, and Tony nods. 

“Of course,” He hits one of the balls, and it goes sailing in the air. It lands with a plop in the lake, and Tony sighs. “Son, I wanted to apologize. Certain people have made me see that what I did last night probably weren’t that good-”

“Did Papa tell you that?” Peter asks, laughing because his father can be pretty menacing when he wants to be.

Tony chuckles. “Yeah, he did. You know your father, always pushing to make things right. I’m sorry, Peter. I was just surprised, and, not going to lie, a little angry that you’re apparently getting married and you didn’t tell us. We used to be so close, and I guess I’m just upset that you’re keeping things from me.”

A moment of silence passed before Peter mutters, “I was ashamed, Dad. I mean, he is my boss, which sucks, and also he’s a guy. I know that being okay is gay, but I didn’t want the press saying ‘like father, like son’ and all the other bullshit they spew, y’know?”

“I know, son,” Tony sighs, golf balls forgotten. “I can always handle the press, though, they practically answer to me. No more secrets, okay?”

Yeah, right. Like hell, Peter would ever tell his fucking dad about this dumb little plan of his, but sure, whatever answer would help Tony sleep at night.

“Of course, Dad,” Peter says. “I promise.”

Tony turns to shoot another ball out into the wild when Peter turns back. “Dad?”

“Yeah, Pete?”

“I love him.”

Tony manages a smile. “I know, Pete. It’s obvious.” With that, the genius turns away, leaving his son to trudge back to the mansion by himself, lost in his thoughts.

-

Apparently, Steve, Natasha, Clint (who is a sarcastic asshole, and Wade falls in love instantly) and Gwen’s idea of ‘fun’ is taking Wade to a strip club. Well, not exactly a strip club, just a local bar with an exotic dancer. They keep promising him the best of the best, and Wade usually isn’t opposed to strippers, but for some reason, he is. Maybe it’s because an eagle stole his phone earlier. Or, heading down a darker path, maybe it’s because he would rather see Peter dance in lingerie around a chair. Shit, now he has a boner.

“Get ready,” Natasha whispers to him, mischief gleaming in her eyes.  
Just then, loud pop music starts playing out of millions of speakers, and the waiter that Wade almost spit his drink on his on stage in fake clothes.

“Oh, God,” he whispers to himself.

He ends up getting pulled onstage, and, channeling his inner bachelorette party, lightly taps the guy’s ass, but only because Clint told him to, of course.

A couple of minutes later, Wade finds himself outside, staring at the sea and wondering what his life had become.

He loves strippers. Okay, maybe this guy wasn’t a stripper, but still.  
Well, he was from Norway, and was wearing those skimpy outfits strippers wear, and is technically considered an exotic dancer by the ‘locals’- fuck, the dude’s a stripper.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he be attracted to the Norwegian stripper and not- and not Peter? His fucking assistant, who fetches him coffee and gives him small smiles at the lewd jokes he makes. Fuck. Fuck his life.

The door opens behind him, and Gwen comes out. “Hey,” She says, and Wade inwardly cringes. She’s just so perfect, isn’t she?

“Hey,” Wade responds. Gwen comes up next to him and rests her arms on the railing, mimicking Wade’s posture.

“You know,” Gwen clears her throat. “You and Peter seem oddly perfect for each other. I remember-”

“Did you-” Wade interrupts. “Sorry. How long did you guys date?”

“Oh, only for five years.”

“What happened?”

Gwen sighs and turns to face Wade. “He proposed to me. He said that he wanted to run away to New York together, where we could just live without responsibilities. And…”

Silence. 

“You said no,” Wade says, more of a statement than a question.

Gwen nods. “He deserves to be happy, Wade. Anyone could see how in love you two are. He’s a good guy. Well, you probably know that yourself,” She chuckles, and Wade feels even more guilty than he already did before this whole ‘plan.’

The door opens again, and the music is reaching its peak. Gwen laughs. “Guess the show’s almost done. See you around, Wade,” She goes in and whoops, leaving Wade alone with his thoughts.

-

Steve, Wade, Natasha, and Clint are walking back to the house when Wade catches sight of Peter, sitting outside all alone, angrily snapping a camera at random things in the yard. His eyes were narrowed, and his mouth was set in a firm, hard, line, and Wade instantly got hard. Okay, exaggeration, but it was arousing. Damn, Petey, why are you so fucking hot? 

“Oh, no,” Steve mutters, and even Natasha sighs.

“What’s wrong?” Wade asks, slightly fearing the answer.

“He’s in one of his moods,” Natasha says, accompanied by an eye roll.  
“Just leave him be. He’ll snap out of it.”

Steve looks even angrier than Peter, and when he stomps into the house, Wade is honestly afraid. From all the tabloid pictures (and what Wade’s experienced so far) and news articles, Steve is always portrayed in the media as the calm one who keeps Tony grounded. Maybe all is not as it seems, Wade thinks bitterly. That would unquestionably be the case.

Natasha and Clint disappeared off to God know's where, and Peter was still in a funk, so Wade just follows Steve. He’s honestly about to go upstairs when he catches sight of Tony, sitting on the couch with a beer. Steve marches right over to him and turns to TV off.

“Tony,” He hisses, and Tony looks genuinely confused.

“Steve? What’s going on?”

“Why is our son pouting around in the yard, buried in his camera? Why did you do?”

Tony puts a hand on his chest. “Nothing! Steve, I said nothing. Okay, maybe I mentioned to him that he should take over the family businesses about half an hour ago, but he’s fine! He didn’t take it seriously, which sucks, and- is he really pouting around in the yard?”  
Steve glares at his husband, and Tony relents. “Fine. I’m sorry. You know that-”

“No, Tony! Stop! Stop forcing the business on him! Just give it to Natasha or something. This is why he barely comes home! This is why we didn’t know about the proposal, or the engagement, or the relationship. We won’t even know about our grandchild, for Christ’s sake! Just let him be! Just- just let him be,” Steve finishes, out of breath and tears fresh in his eye.

“Steve,” Tony croaks. “I don’t- Jesus, just come here,” He holds out his arms, and Steve collapses on his husband, sniffling.

The last thing Wade sees is Tony wrapping himself around Steve, gasping apologies around tears that were threatening to escape.  
Wade lets out a huff of laughter. How heartbreaking, he thinks, face breaking into a smile.

-

Peter hates his dad. Okay, that's an overstatement. He loves his dad. Both of them, actually. He just doesn’t like the fact that his dad keeps trying to make him take over the family business. They’re the Stark-Rogers, not the fucking Winchesters, for fuck’s sake. Other than that, nothing’s wrong.

He’s been walking around, taking pictures for about an hour now, and he hasn’t showered in, like, two days. He stinks. So, Peter goes up to his room and strips naked, blissfully unaware of Wade showering in the bathroom. 

Humming, Peter walks to the bathroom, as slow as possible. He doesn’t even register the fact that the door has now magically opened until something large and heavy crashes into him. They fall backward, Peter on top, but when he realizes it’s Wade, he freaks out. “What the fuck?” He shrieks, and Wade just shrieks back.

“The fuck, Petey? Why are you naked? What the actual fuck?”

“Why are you naked?” He screams back, not caring how much noise they make. Peter’s pretty sure the walls are soundproof, anyway.

“I was showering, and there weren’t any towels! I had to get some! It still doesn’t explain-”

“I was about to go shower!” Peter wraps a towel around his middle and glances over at Wade, who’s hiding behind the bed in a blanket.

There’s silence until Wade emerges and smirks. “Well, this dilemma has one good quality.”

“Yeah? Care to share with the class?” Peter asks, a tiny bit hysterical.

“I get to see you naked.” Wade finishes, and Peter has to resist jumping him right then and there.

“Fuck! Just- just get dressed, Christ!” With that, Peter locks himself in the bathroom and refuses to acknowledge the fact that he’s painfully attracted to Wade.

-

At night, they’re finally settled into bed (Peter on the far left, Wade on the far right) when Wade asks, “What’s up with you and your dad? Tony?”

“Nothing,” Peter sighs and tried to shift away a bit more. “It’s- it’s nothing. Good night, Wade.”

There’s silence, an extended, blissful period of silence before Wade says, “I, um, I bought every single episode of Star trek known to man. Even the unreleased ones.”

What?

“I am terrified of cows. It’s like they’re just waiting to attack, I can’t stand it. They’re horrible, horrible creatures.”

Peter chuckles at that. 

“My dad was an alcoholic. He used to beat my mom and me until my friend killed him. It sounds pretty dark, and it is, but that’s why I left Canada. I couldn’t stand being near the memory of their deaths. Oh, and I took disco lessons in fifth grade. I would dance to random EDM songs; it was pretty cool.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter says after a moment. “You don’t deserve that. You- you’re fun to hang out with, Wade, and I’m sorry that almost everyone hates you. I don’t hate you, though. I like hanging out with you.”

“Thanks, Pete,” Wade says softly. “I like hanging out with you too,” 

When Peter falls asleep that night, it’s with a smile on his face and a light in his heart.

Wade always jokes around, so this side of him is entirely new to Peter. But, he kind of likes it.

-

Peter wakes up to a knock at the door. “Room service!” Steve’s voice says, and he groans. There’s a flutter of panic as to where Wade is before Peter relaxes against his fake fiance's chest. 

“Wade,” He hisses, hitting him in the face until he wakes up. “My dad’s at the door. Wade!”

Wade groans. “Oh, no. ‘M awake. Oh god, it’s too early.”

“Come in!” Peter calls, and the door opens to reveal Steve, alone for the first time since their visit. 

“Good morning,” He chirps, smiling broadening when he sees Peter tucked against Wade’s chest, Wade’s arm draped over Peter’s waist.  
“I’ve brought breakfast!”

“Oh, you didn’t have to, Papa, really,” Peter says.

“No, it’s fine. I’m starving,” Wade grins and reaches over Peter, making grabby motions with his hands. Steve laughs at him and tells him to get up himself.

“Room for one more?” Tony asks, walking into the room. Peter groans and lets his head fall back against Wade’s chest, who laughs slightly, the motion making vibrations. 

Okay, wow. Peter likes that. Fuck, he loves it. He likes being tucked against Wade’s chest. What’s wrong with him? It’s his boss. Holy fucking shit.

“Hey, Dad,” Peter says. Tony greets him with a nod and a smile and wraps an arm around Steve. 

“So, son, we were thinking-”

“We want you to get married here. Tomorrow,” Steve says excitedly, and Peter’s flushed with guilt once more.

“Oh, no, we couldn’t-”

“It’s your birthday; we don’t want-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Natasha says as she waltzes into the room. “Dear old dad’s had, like, five too many birthday parties. It’s fine. Plus, it’ll be cute. You could get married in the barn; I know how much you like that ol’ thing, Peter.”

Steve nods and Peter glances at Wade, who has a stupid smirk plastered on his face.

“Okay!” He exclaims, and Steve beams.

“Great! I’ll start preparing…” He hurries away, pressing a quick kiss to Tony’s cheek as he races past.

“Alright, then,” Tony says and leads Natasha out of the room. The door closes, and Peter starts hyperventilating. He sits up, Wade’s arms still around him.

“Oh, God,” He groans. “When my parents find out this whole thing is fake, they’re gonna be so disappointed- my dads, Nat-”

“Peter,” Wade says soothingly, rubbing circles on Peter’s back. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry, okay? Hey, look at me. Look at me, Pete,” Peter complies.

“We’ll get a quickie divorce and be done, okay? Don’t worry.” Wade hasn’t stopped rubbing Peter’s back, and honestly, he kind of likes it. Wade has soothing hands.

Peter nods, watching Wade as he gets up from the bed to fetch the plate of breakfast that Steve’s left. “Sweetened mocha latte?” Wade jokes and Peter rolls his eyes.

“Haha, very funny,”

“Here you go, baby boy. Gotta keep my man happy and content,” Wade’s grinning, and Peter kind of wants to kiss him. Quickly, he shakes that thought away. It’s not appropriate, he thinks, taking deep breaths. Peter reaches for the plate of cinnamon rolls, yanking a bit when Wade doesn’t let go.

“Wade?” He asks cautiously, and Wade stares at him, not really blinking. 

Oh God, what’s wrong with him now?

“Wade?” Peter prompts, pulling the rolls to him. Wade lets go this time, still staring. “Are you okay?”

Wade nods. “Yeah. I’m just- I’m gonna take a walk. I’ll, um, see you in a little bit.” With that, he disappears out the door, leaving Peter in bed with the fucking cinnamon rolls.

-

There’s a bike leaning against a tree when Wade comes out of the house. It looks so innocent, just sitting there without an owner, and without a moment’s equivocation, he takes it. Soon, he’s riding down a hill into the forest next to the mansion.

Okay, time to recap: he might be in love with Peter. Well, maybe a little fast, but there’s definitely some feelings there. Strong feelings, too. Fuck. Peter’s such a great guy; he’s funny and smart and charming and dorky and adorable, and Wade can’t fuck him up, he won’t, so why does that not seem to matter? Why does he feel so drawn to his fucking assistant, for Christ’s sake? Fuck. Fuck!

Wade stops in a random clearing to get some air when he hears guitars playing. “What the fuck?” He mutters, going closer to the sound.

There, in the middle of a clearing, is Natasha boxing. Her phone and a speaker are next to her, blasting old Fall Out Boy songs. 

“Hey,” Wade says, approaching her cautiously. 

“Good, Wade,” She greets. “I need a sparring partner. Do you mind?”

Wade laughs. Finally, some action. “I was in the army; I wouldn’t mind at all.”

Natasha grins, then gestures to the speaker. “Do you want a different song? How about-”

“How about Expensive Mistakes?” Wade asks, matching Natasha’s grin.

She gives an approving nod, then lines them up. “Ready?”

“Ready.” 

Natasha’s quick; Wade’s gotta hand it to her. He has trouble putting up with her fighting style; one moment she uses legs then the next she uses arms. It’s confusing, and Wade’s rather sure she headbutts him at one point, but it’s the most fun he’s had in about six months.

When they finish, Wade’s lying on his back on the ground, Natasha sitting on his legs. “I win,” She crows, and Wade laughs.

“Yeah, yeah. Shit, I think I’m bleeding.”

“That’s the point, fuckhead. It’s fighting, not dancing. I worry about you.”

“Aw, thanks! I’m flattered.” Natasha waves him off. 

“Chill.”

There’s the sound of a twig snapping, then Peter’s voice tentatively saying, “Wade? Nat? What’s going on?”

Natasha gets up and greets her brother. “We were fighting. Honestly, Peter, he’s pretty good. He’s a keeper, all right. Don’t tell Dad I said that, though, or I’ll cut your balls off.”

“No, I like his balls!” Wade says, laughing when he sees Peter’s expression.

“Okay, I’m just going to ignore that little comment, but really, Nat? I can’t believe you want to see my balls-”

“You’re fucking disgusting,” She tells him, grabbing her phone. “I’ll cut your tongue out, how about that?”

Peter pretends to look thoughtful. “Definitely better, but…”

“Fuck off, Pete.” She says, flipping him off as she walks by the couple. “See you at dinner. Maybe.”

“So, Petey,” Wade says, still lying on the ground. “What brings a pretty thing like you to a place like this? Tacos? Chimichangas? Oh, fuck, I could go for some good chimichangas right now-”

“Your phone’s ready,” Peter interrupts, smiling. “Wanna go get it?”

“Um, hell yes! Logan’s gonna be so pissed about me ditching him, I didn’t really think this through-”

Peter rolls his eyes and helps Wade off the ground. “Let’s go,” He says, giving Wade no choice but to follow him.

-

They head into Stark General Store, and who should be the cashier but the Norwegian stripper.

“Hey! Peter! How are you?” He says, beaming. Peter shuffles around the store, grabbing random things.

“I’m good, Loki, how are you?”

“Amazing! I have the phone for you, just give me a second- oh! It’s you! Do you remember me? I sure remember you, baby,” Loki purrs, slyly trapping Wade in one section of the store. Wade just points to Peter.

“Fiancee,” He says, and Loki seems to understand and back off. They walk back to Peter, who’s shoving Pringles in a plastic bag like they’re the last food on Earth.

“Here’s your phone, Peter,” Loki says.

“Thanks, Loki! Have a good day!” 

Loki winks at Wade as they leave. “You too.”

“Okay, that was creepy,” Wade stage-whispers to Peter as soon as they exit. He starts tampering with his phone as soon as possible and winces. “Shit! I have so many voicemails! Cock-socket! Is there an internet cafe or something?”

Peter laughs. “Yeah, follow me.”

The internet cafe is empty, but that’s to be expected. Wade and Peter make their way over to a computer, sighing in unison when the sign says ten cents per minute in really awful comic sans.

“I’ll get some dimes,” Peter says. He goes up to the cashier, who hands him, like, ten-thousand dimes. Peter walks back and pours them all on the table. 

“Good luck!” He chirps, and Wade sticks his tongue out at him.

“Thanks, Parker. Sorry, Parker-Stark-Rogers. I forget sometimes. Or all the time. Wanna help a brother out here? I need-”

“I’ll be outside,” Peter interrupts, and abruptly walks outside.

“Rude,” Wade says as he puts the dimes in and catches up on work. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Peter and Gwen talking. Gwen tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and giggles while Peter scuffs at the ground with his foot, a smile evident on his face.

Something inside Wade breaks in two. He deserves her, not you, a voice says in the back of his head, and he silently agrees. He’s aware that there’s a burning sensation in his left eye, but he pushes it deep down and tries to focus on his work.

-

“So,” Wade says. “It was nice to see Gwen again, huh?”

Peter nods absently. “Yeah.”

“She looked cute. I could rock that dress, y’know.” Wade jokes, but it comes out dry. He’s off his game. Only Peter fucking Parker could do this to him.

“Wade!” Steve’s voice says from behind them. “We’ve been looking for you; come on, we’ve got a surprise.” Behind Steve was Clint, who just nodded.

“Um-” 

“Shush, Peter. This wouldn’t entertain you, anyway, it’s macho stuff.”

"Yeah?” Peter challenges. “Then why's Clint with you and not Nat?”

Clint starts forward, grinning. “I’ll show you macho stuff, punk,”

Steve rubs his temple. “Please stop. Let’s go, please. Clint, stop tackling your brother! What are you, five? Oh, my God. Put him down. No. No! Clint. Stop. I swear to God-”

-

“You good in there?” Clint yells. Wade flips him off, straightens his tie, and walks out of the dressing room.

Clint wolf whistles. “Damn, Wilson, if you weren’t fucking my brother I’d definitely tap that.”

Steve groans. “Please stop.”

Honestly, Wade does look good. The suit’s a bit loose around the shoulders, but Steve assures that Clint can sow it. He doubts that, but whatever. He looks hot as fuck.

“I wore this to my wedding,” Steve murmurs, a strange look in his eye. He shakes his head slightly and plasters a smile on his face. “So, I thought that maybe we could visit you guys up in New York on holidays.”

Wade nods thoughtfully. “Or, we could come here.” He suggests.

“I would like that,” Steve says. There’s an odd moment of silence before he says. “I would really like that, Wade.” 

Okay, is that a tear? Shit, Peter’s gonna be so pissed at him for making his dad cry.

“Go get some coffee, old man,” Clint says, effectively defusing the situation. Steve nods and hurries away, leaving Clint and Wade alone.

“Here,” Clint says, reaching for a clasp. There’s a red rose on it, and when it’s pinned to the suit, Wade almost swoons. Okay, now he looks hot. Damn.

“This thing's has been in the family for, like, a hundred years or something. Steve wants you to have it. Hell, even I want you to have it. Peter has his own, don’t worry, and I plan on getting married far away from here. It’s not as perfect as it seems, you know.” Clint  
explains.

Wade nods thoughtfully, fingering the brooch. “Yeah, I get that. It’s- it’s beautiful, Clint. I- thank you. Thank you.”

“We’re family now, right?” Clint says, clapping him on the back.

Family.

-

On the boat back to the house, Wade maybe freaks out a bit. Just a bit. Okay, well, enough to get himself thrown off the ship.

They had been arguing; Wade was freaking out about the whole fake marriage thing because these people had shown him kindness and cared for him and they would be devastated if they found out, and he was driving for some reason and just forgot to steer. Thankfully, Peter was there to the rescue, screaming at him. Then, the world tumbled, and suddenly it was cold, so very cold, and holy fucking shit he just fell in.

At least Wade can at least tread water; thank fuck for that.

He manages to swim over to a buoy, and when Peter offers his hand, he takes it. Peter surprisingly robust for a scrawny little thing; maybe he secretly works out?

“Fuck, Wade! What were you thinking?” Peter says, wrapping him in a blanket. “You’re so cold. Here-” He starts rubbing Wade’s shoulders in an attempt to warm him up. They’re sitting face-to-face now, and Wade should feel uncomfortable at their close proximity, but he doesn’t, which is weird. Oh, well. A lot of things were strange, Wade just learns to roll with it.

“I’m sorry, Petey. I’m just nervous,” Wade lies.

I miss my family. 

“I know, Wade,” Peter says softly. “I am too.”

I think I love you.

-

The walk back to the house is silent; both parties lost in their thoughts. A loud noise draws Peter back to the present, and he sees his dad climbing down the rocks. Tony lets out a cheerful shout when he sees Peter and Wade and hurries over to join him.

“You two have to come with me, sorry,” He says.

Peter gives Wade a confused look, but Wade just shrugs in response. 

They follow Tony back into the house, and just before Tony opens, the door, he stops.

“Please don’t tell your father about this,” He says and opens the door.

At first, there’s nothing wrong. Then, like some creepy villain from a superhero movie, Mr. Odinson stalks out from the shadows with a strange smile on his face. “Hello, Mr. Wilson, Mr. Parker. You were aware that I would be following up, weren’t you?”

“Mr. Parker-Stark-Rogers, actually,” Tony interrupts, and Peter glares at him.

“Yes, sir, I was,” Peter says politely, and feels Wade snort behind him. Wait, feels? What the fuck? Oh, right, Wade’s chest is pressed against his back, his arms on Peter’s hips. Yeah, he could get used to this. Gotta make it look real, of course.

“I flew Mr. Odinson- great name, by the way- up here because he thinks you’re lying. And, sorry, Peter, but I do too.”

Fuck.

“I have a proposition for you,” Mr. Odinson declares. 

Behind him, Wade growls. “What kind of proposition?”

“If you say that the marriage is fake, you, Mr. Parker, will not go to jail, and Mr. Wilson here will go back to Canada.”

There’s a tense moment of silence before Peter clears his throat and steps away from the warm comfort of Wade’s body. “You want the truth? Fine. I started working for Wade Wilson three years ago. Eight months ago, we started dating, and then he proposed. I’ll see you at the wedding.” With that, Peter turns to walk away, Wade following close behind him.

-

Once they’re safe in their room, Wade sits on the bed, only dimly aware that he’s vulnerable. He feels tears forming in his eyes, but chooses to ignore it.

“Do you-” Wade tries, swallowing the sob. Ew. He sounds pathetic. “Do you still wanna go through with this, Peter? It’s okay. We don’t have to, honest. We can say it’s a sham and then I’ll just go back to Canada because none of that even matters anymore, and I’m so, so sorry. I can’t function anymore, and you’re-”

Wade’s pretty sure that Peter kissed him to shut him up. He wasn’t complaining.

A knock on the door separates them. When Wade glances over, Peter’s face is flushed, and his pupils are dilated. He smirks and greets Natasha, who gives them the once over and laughs. 

“Sorry if I interrupted something, but Peter, it’s time to go.”

“What?”

“Tradition, fucktard. You can’t see your future husband the night before the wedding! Christ, Peter, it’s like you were raised by people who didn’t know what tradition was- oh, right.”

She leaves, and Peter gives Wade an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll see you in the morning?”

Wade nods. “Of course, baby boy. I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s only after Peter leaves, does Wade honestly realize how much he cares about the other man.

-

Both of the grooms didn’t get much sleep that night, but one wouldn’t even be able to tell thanks to Natasha’s superior make-up skills. 

The barn looks impressive; fairy lights and flowers are strung up around the walls, and there’s a thick red carpet leading to where the ceremony would take place.

Wade’s waiting at the altar, thinking about Peter’s lips against his own when he sees him.

Okay, fuck. Wade’s pretty sure he won’t ever recover from this, because damn. Peter looks gorgeous. Like, suitably, drop-dead gorgeous.

His brown hair is ruffled slightly, and he’s in a really expensive black tux. At each arm are his dads, who are beaming at their surroundings. Wade’s pretty sure that Natasha takes a picture of his reaction, but nothing else matters to him more than Peter. And shit, if that revelation didn’t hurt because now there was no denying what he had to do.

Peter reaches the aisle and smiles at Wade. His grin so bright it could power the Earth for days.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Loki says because of course, he’s conducting the ceremony. “We are gathered here today to witness the joining of Wade and Peter. They are surrounded by the people they love, and the people that love them. Today is the happiest day of their lives, and-” He’s cut off by Wade raising a finger.

“Is there a problem?” Loki asks, and Wade clears his throat.

“Yeah. There’s a bit of a confession I have to make, I’m afraid. And this is gonna hurt like a bitch, but I have to do it. I’m from Canada. And, a few days ago, I learned that I was going to be deported. And I looked at Peter, my wonderful assistant, and blackmailed him into marrying me. You see, he’s always worked harder than anyone else at my company, and I knew that if I threatened his career, he would do anything I told him to,”

“Wade,” Peter hisses, but Wade pushes on.

“Tony, he gets that from you, I think.” Tony looks shocked at being called out, and if the situation were different, Wade would have laughed. But he didn’t, because this was the reality, and he was ruining everything he’s built so hard to create. Peter whispers his name again, and Wade steadily ignores him.

“And now, I look at this amazing family you have, and I can’t do it. I can’t ruin his life because I’d be ruining yours, and you’ve treated me with such kindness. So, that’s it. That’s the truth.” Wade steps off the platform and walks down the aisle. “Meet me at the dock and take me to the airport.”

Mr. Odinson merely smirks.

-

“Peter!” Steve hisses once the barn is mostly empty. “What were you thinking?”

“I just- I need some air,” Peter says, and rushes out of there. His head’s spinning by the time he reaches their room.

Wade’s a fucking idiot. Peter can’t believe that he finally matured and did the wrong thing. Holy shit, Peter likes him. Scratch that, he loves him. All their teasing and bantering over three years accumulated into something that Peter pushed deep down, and after their kiss, all  
Peter can think about if how he never wanted to let go.

The room is empty; big surprise. But, on the bed lies a packet. Well, it’s less of a package and more of- is that Peter’s manuscript?

A note attached to the papers flutters down, and when Peter bends to pick it up, he notices that there’s a stain on it. A tear stain.

Dear Peter, the note reads. You were right. This manuscript is outstanding, and we’ll buy it before I have to leave. I didn’t want to publish it because that would mean you would leave me, and I care about you too much for that to happen. I’m sorry. Love, Wade.

That dick. 

“Hey, Peter,” Clint’s voice says from the doorway. “That was crazy, huh?”

“I-” Peter inhales sharply. “I can’t believe it, Clint. After all the things I’ve done for him-”

“I know,” Clint says. 

“You know what pisses me off? The fact that Wade couldn’t even say this shit to my fucking face. I’ve worked for him, for that- that mercenary for so fucking long, and I can’t even imagine what it would be like without him-” Peter cuts off suddenly, unused to the emotions flooding through him.

After a moment, Clint takes a step forward. “You just gonna let him get away?”

Peter stares at him for a moment before sprinting out of the room.

-

“What the hell, Peter?” Tony yells once Peter’s outside. They’re standing outside where the tables are, and all the guests are looking at them with curiosity. 

“Get out of my way,” Peter growls in a strange voice, the one he’s learned from watching Wade all these years. 

“No. I can’t believe-”

“Stop! Please, just-” Steve’s voice is cut off as he kneels over, and Tony’s by his side in a flash.

Someone calls 911, and soon Tony, Peter, Steve, and Natasha are in a tiny airplane bound for the hospital.

“Tony, stop fighting with Peter. Listen to him and respect his opinions, okay? And Peter, don’t fight with your father. He loves you so, so much, and I can’t let you two hate each other.”

“Okay,” Tony whispers hoarsely. “I promise, baby, I do. Please don’t die…”

“I promise, Papa,” Peter says, tears springing to his eyes.

Steve rests on the cot, his eyes closed. A few moments later, they pop back open. “Alright! Guess I’m not dying today. What a shame, right?”

“Steve!” Tony yells, but Peter can tell how glad he is that his husband is okay. 

He’d feel the same.

-

They reach the tarmac in record time, and Peter sprints out of the plane once the captain tells them they can leave. He dials a number on his phone and desperately hopes that Johnny will pick up.

“Yo, Parker! What’s up, dude? I heard about your man leavin’ you. Sucks, dude.”

“Johnny, stop that plane.”

“Why?”

“Because Wade’s on that plane! Just stop it!”

“Sorry, Parker. Nothing I can do,” There’s the snap of gum, and then the line goes dead. 

Peter watches Wade’s plane take off into the sky, and feels his heart go with it.

“Why are we here?” He hears Tony say. 

“Because Wade’s on that plane. They love each other, Dad, can’t you see?”

“I didn’t- Peter, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how you felt about him,”

Tony says, reaching over to squeeze Peter’s left shoulder. 

“It’s okay, Dad, you didn’t know. Hell, even I just found out about it.”

Tony nods sympathetically. “I understand. I’m in love with someone, too.”

Natasha cocks her head. “Um, what?”

“Steve,” Tony says, facing his husband. “You have every right to hate me. But I thought that you should know.” 

The looks on Steve’s face is absolute horror, and Peter hopes he won’t have to clean up his own father’s blood from the pavement.

“I’m in love- God, this is so hard to say,” Tony chuckles nervously.

“Say it.” Steve’s voice is clear and commanding, and Peter’s only heard that tone once in his life, when he got into an argument over cereal with Clint at the grocery store. They were, like, nine and thirteen; practically kids, but Peter was still scared shitless.

“I’m in love with you. Always have, always will. And I’m sorry-” Tony’s cut off by Steve abruptly walking away.

“Fuck you, Stark!” He calls, but Peter can hear the laughter in his voice. 

“Love you, Rogers!” Tony calls. “So, Peter. You should probably go after Wade.”

Peter tackles his dad in a hug. “Thank you,” he says, running to catch the nearest plane to New York.

-

Wade’s just finished packing the last on his boxes. Opening the door is a struggle, but whatever. He has a flight to catch.

“Hey, my man Harry. I need you to bring this shit downstairs, and then- what? What are you staring at?” He turns around and is met with- holy fuck, is that Peter?

“Peter?” He breathes, not daring it to be true because it can’t be-

“Wade,” Peter says, strolling forward. “We need to talk.”

And just like that, everything dissipates back to reality. “Um, no can do, baby boy. I’ve got a flight to catch at five-thirty, so if you don’t mind-”

“Wade,” Peter says again, walking closer. “Stop.”

“I’m just gonna take these boxes down to the cab that better be waiting for me, you hear that, Wanda? And then I’ll get in that cab, maybe grab a couple of things from my apartment- I will be damned if I lose that Spider-man plushie, let me tell you- then maybe-”

“Wade!” Peter explodes, and Wade’s mouth slides shut. Huh. That’s a first. “Stop talking, please.”

The entire room is silent, everyone staring at them, and so Wade gestures with his hands. “Go on, baby boy. Talk away.”

“Stop talking. Good, thanks. Wade, I used to tolerate you, just barely. Like, up until four days ago, I would kinda hate coming into work.” He chuckles, and Wade feels his heart sink. “But then, after- after Malibu, and after we kissed, which was twice, by the way, I can’t stop thinking about you. And I realized, some time in California in my parent’s house, that- that I loved you. So please, Wade, I think- I think we should get married. For real. Not a fake marriage, a real one, because I wanna date you.”

Somewhere in this little tirade of Peter’s they had ended up even closer than before, and Wade was pretty sure that if he leaned forward just a tiny bit, their lips would connect.

“I’m not- I’m pretty fucked up, Petey, and I know that you don’t mean it-”

“I do. I mean every word I’ve said. Wade, I’m in love with you. So-”

“I’m in,” Wade interrupted. “I want to marry and date you. Let’s do it, baby boy.”

Peter grins, and Wade can’t take it anymore. He leans in and touches their lips together, and apparently Peter’s too impatient for this because he surges forward and wraps his arms around Wade’s shoulders to bring them closer. Wade laughs into the kiss and rests his hands on Peter’s hips, finally sensing where he belongs.

“For the record,” Wade says when they part (just barely, as they’re still sharing the same breath), “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, too.”

Peter gives a little breathy laugh and kisses him again.

-

“So,” Mr. Odinson says. “You two are engaged again. For real this time.”

“Yes,” Peter says, beaming. He looks at Wade, who’s smiling at him, and he feels so much happiness waiting to burst through his chest.

“Okay then,” Mr. Odinson says. “Let’s go through the process.”

 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!! check out my other works if you're a fan of supernatural AND the marvel universe!!


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